Chapter 65: “Hog’s Head Inn”


    What are you doing? the grim-faced old man red at the boy standing at the door, his voice dripping with malice.


    Matthew was taken aback and stammered in response, Sir I heard You have Butterbeer?


    The disfigured old man scrutinized Matthew for what seemed like an eternity before finally saying in a cold tone, Come in.


    He opened the door to the cabin, allowing Matthew to enter the Hogs Head Inn.


    Matthew could finally take in the establishments interior as he stepped inside. It was a small, dark, and filthy room.


    Thickyers of dirt covered the bay windows, making it almost impossible for light to prate. Only a few candle heads on a rough wooden table provided minimal illumination.


    The floor was even messier. Initially, it appearedpacted mud, but when Matthew stepped on it, he realized it was a stone floor that had umted dirt over centuries.


    There was no doubt that this bar was far from a decent ce.


    What are you looking at? the old man asked suspiciously, noticing Matthews curious gaze.


    I was just reading about this ce in Professor Bathilda Bagshots History of Magic ss your bar was once the headquarters of the Goblin Rebellion in 1612. Matthew said slowly, ncing at the old mans eyes.


    However, the old mans expression remained unchanged when Matthew mentioned Bathilda Bagshots name, and his eyes were not the sky blue he had expected.


    That all happened centuries ago! the old man said disdainfully. What do you need, butterbeer or me whiskey?


    Butterbeer. Matthew replied.


    The old man turned and left while Matthew took the opportunity to look around curiously.


    Without a doubt, the patrons in the bar were old people. There were only a few guests, three to five at most, and the atmosphere was rtively quiet.


    There was a witch with a thick ck scarf that hung down to her feet and another witch whose head was almost entirely covered by a thick cloak. None of them seemed particrly serious.


    As Matthew observed the disfigured old mans back, he couldnt help but think to himself.


    ording to the original book, the male host at the Hogs Head Inn was Aberforth Dumbledore, the younger brother of Albus Dumbledore. He maintained an incognito identity, collecting information for his brother in this bar.


    But this disfigured old man looked nothing like Aberforth in Matthews memory. His appearance waspletely different.


    Just as Matthew pondered this, the hostess approached, carrying a ss of butterbeer at a leisurely pace.


    Butterbeer was not actually beer but a drink made of cream, butter, and brown sugar. It was trendy among Hogwarts students.


    Sir, what can I call you? Matthew asked the host when he put his butterbeer before him.


    Percival, the host replied coldly.


    The name wasnt umon. Percival was one of the most famous knights of the Round Table in the legend of King Arthur.


    He was known as one of the Three Knights of the Holy Grail, along with Ghad and Bors. He had garnered significant fame in Wales and throughout Ennd.


    Matthew furrowed his brow slightly before continuing his inquiry, Then, Mr. Percival, how long have you been in charge of this bar?


    This time, Matthew received no response. With his grotesque face, the host suddenly stared at Matthew coldly and asked viciously, Are you interrogating me, kid?


    No, no! Im just a Hogwarts first-year student Matthew quickly defended himself


    Just as Matthew stuttered through his exnation, a familiar voice broke the tension.


    Matthew!


    The Hogs Head Inn door swung open, and a bald old man as fat as a sea elephant, Professor Slughorn, stood at the entrance with a friendly smile.


    He nced at the filthy floor with disdain before walking in. Why are you here? Professor Slughorn asked loudly, his gaze fixed on Matthew.


    The host, who had previously been vicious, had already holstered his wand, no longer showing any signs of aggression.


    I I just heard that this bar used to be the headquarters of the Goblin Rebellion in 1612, so I came to take a look Matthew exined, feeling relieved that Professor Slughorn had arrived.


    Oh, alright! Slughorn grabbed Matthews hand, speaking wittily. Historical records often deviate from reality, you know


    Yes, sir! Matthew nodded.


    Lets go; this ce isnt for us! Slughorn shook his head at Matthew. Thanks to the fact that I was passing by the window and saw you


    Matthew was pulled away from the table by Professor Slughorn.


    A ss of butterbeer, three sickles! the host shouted roughly.


    Matthew reached into his pocket to pay, but Professor Slughorn had already produced several silver coins and ced them on the dirty table.


    Lets get out of here quickly! Professor Slughorn urged, and Matthew followed him, hastily leaving the Hogs Head Inn.


    They returned to the bustling Central Avenue once again.


    Professor, Matthew asked hurriedly, Why did you say that the Hogs Head Inn isnt a ce for us to stay?


    Of course! Professor Slughorn exined. That kind of ce isnt suitable for respectable individuals. A little guy like you would have been in trouble if I hadnt passed by. Let me tell you


    If you want to drink some butterbeer, I rmend the Two Broomsticks. The environment and the taste are much better! Professor Slughorn said enthusiastically. Come, lets have a drink there together.


    Of course, Professor, Matthew agreed.


    Meanwhile, Matthew and Professor Slughorn left the Hogs Head Inn.


    A witch with a long ck scarf quickly settled her bill and quietly followed their steps from a distance.